Transparency
by SarahTonin
Summary: It's funny the things you'll find when you clean up a little. Feelings never known or dreamed of may become transparent. A cute little fluff piece about a couple rarely seen. CanLiet. LietCan. Canathuania. Whatever floats your boat...or ship. Either way, it's Canada x Lithuania
1. Ghost

Today was my last day. I actually didn't mind working as America's cleaning maid for a while, despite the effeminate implications. I mean, he could be obnoxiously oblivious at times, but at least he was better than Russia. Russia was really scary. I just couldn't refuse when he said he wanted me to work for him again.

I sighed and set the cleaning supplies on the porch. I dug into my pocket and retrieved the spare key America let me use to let myself in. Things were so much different at America's than they were at Russia's. At America's, I could enter and leave freely. At Russia's, I could never leave, and I never wanted to enter. Working at America's gave me a small sense of independence, even if short lived.

"Mr. America?" I called out. I guess I was here a bit early. America probably wasn't awake yet. I'd just have to get started on my own.

I made my way over to his living room. That's where I usually started. The TV was left on with the volume turned all the way up. A large blanket was wadded up carelessly on the couch. I rolled my eyes. America was such a slob. I wonder how he had managed to live before I came to clean up after him. I walked over the blaring TV and turned it off. I walked over to the couch and pulled at the blanket.

"Ahhhhhhhhh!" it yelled and ripped itself from my hand. I jumped a little bit in shock.

"I'm sorry, Mr. America. Were you asleep? I didn't mean to wake you. It's just today is my last day to clean..."

"Nah, I wasn't asleep. You just really scared me, Lithuania. I couldn't hear you over the TV." America emerged from the blanket and stretched his arms up. He had dark circles under his askew glasses. "Pulled an all-nighter last night watching scary movies. Forgot today was your last day."

He yawned and rearranged his glasses on his face. "Are you sure you want to go back and work for Russia? I wouldn't mind letting you work here until you get back on your feet."

"No, it's alright, Mr. America," I said through my teeth. "I actually really like it at Mr. Russia's place. It's so nice, and you can hardly feel the cold at all. He has plenty of room for everyone."

America shook his head. "I can't believe you actually like that icy creepy place. Whatever. Suit yourself. I think I'll go catch some Zs, so you won't need to clean my room today. Oh, and you might want to avoid the north side." He shivered at that last part.

My eyebrows raised in surprise. "Why? Is there something wrong with the north side? I could try to fix it if you want me to..."

"Dude, you don't want to go over there. I swear to God, there's a ghost over there!" America's tired eyes were wide

I sighed in relief. Was that all? I had been concerned that there actually might have been something wrong. "Do you think maybe perhaps that the scary movie you just watched might have gotten you a bit on edge?"

"I'm serious! I really heard someone over there, and I live alone! It's got to be a ghost. After I wake up, I'm heading over to England's and force him to do an exorcism or something."

That did sound a bit eerie. "I'll try to be careful, then."

"Good because I don't need another person disappearing." America got off the couch and shuffled his feet off to his bedroom.

"Wait! America..." He was gone already. What did he mean "another?" Somebody had disappeared already? No wonder he hadn't slept! I'd be scared out of my mind! I AM scared out of my mind. He really can't expect me to clean this place by myself with something like that here!

That's when my OCD kicked in. I always cleaned when i was nervous or scared. thats why i was such a good worker at Russia's house. I cleaned every nook and cranny until it shined. Not that it would really be that appreciated. I really doubt America paid attention to the decorative carvings on the legs of his coffee table based on the layer of dust that had gathered. I was cleaning faster than I ever had before. Darn it, I had wanted to drag out this last day out for as long as possible. I really didn't want to go back to Russia's place, but what choice did I have?

* * *

I was running out of rooms to clean. I was seriously considering venturing to the north side. The ghost couldn't be nearly as scary as Russia was. At least, that's what I would tell myself. I guess Russia hadn't really made anyone disappear, but they were as good as gone. You became indistinguishable. Like you never existed in the first place.

Oh wait! I almost forgot! The kitchen! That wasn't on the north side, and there was sure to be lots of things to clean in there! I practically skipped to the door of the kitchen, glad that my feet had somewhere less dangerous to wander to.

The door swung open easier than I expected. I thought it usually had more resistance than that. I remember it was like a gust of wind before the impact. And then BANG! I had blinked for just a second and I was on the floor. I screamed. My chest grew warm and sticky. How was this happening? Ghosts weren't supposed to physically maim someone. It just had to be. I had the most rotten luck.

"Oh maple...I-I am...so so sorry...I didn't think...oh, what am I supposed to do? Merde..."

I blinked a few times, trying to assess the situation through my initial panic. I was alright. I wasn't even hurt. A few feet away stood a guy looking rather nervous and flustered. His violet eyes shifted from me to other objects on the floor from behind his glasses. Such items included a plate and a few floppy pancakes. My hand went to my chest. Syrup. Maple syrup.

We must have run into each other and gotten ourselves into this sticky situation. The stranger ran his fingers through his medium length blond hair. A single curl escaped his grasp and hovered a few inches in front of his face. As I looked closer, he kind of looked like someone I knew. Had I met him before? I don't think so. It must be because he sort of looks like America.

"It's alright. A little syrup isn't going to kill me. I'm the one who should be sorry. I'm the one who ruined your breakfast," I said. I tried to rub the syrup that was on my hands on to some part of my shirt that wasn't soaked in the sticky stuff.

His eyes widened. He looked from me to directly behind him and back again. He pointed to his face.

"Uh...excuse me...but were you talking to me?" he said with a confused expression on his face. His voice was soft, sort of like a whisper. A voice that drew you in to listen closer in fear of missing a single word.

I looked with him, rather confused with his confusion. Who else could I be talking to? "I really am sorry about the pancakes. I bet they would have been delicious."

Suddenly, his face was a foot in front of mine. He was squatted in front of me and leaned closer.

"Can...Can you really see me?" he breathed.

**AN: I was only planning this story to be a oneshot, but then I thought, eh, why not take my time. I really hope you're enjoying so far! If you are, please leave me a review! If not, you can still leave me a review. I'm not too picky :)**


	2. Busting

Ah, why was he so close? "O-of course I can see you!" Though, at the moment, I was trying to look anywhere but at him. His amethyst eyes shown with a million facets of wonder.

"Lithuania! Don't worry, I'll save you, bro!" America came rushing on the scene. He had some weird sort of contraption on his back.

"America, I thought you were asleep. I'm sorry. I made such a big deal out of nothing," I apologized I scooted away from the stranger.

"Man, I thought I'd have to bust up some ghosts. I smell pancakes. Why are you sticky?" America asked.

"I can't believe you brought out a proton pack from Ghostbusters, America," the stranger said as he came out of his squat. He reached down to help me up. I took his hand. It was warm and firm in mine as he lifted me off the ground.

America's eyes went wide. "Canada! You're alive!" He pushed past me to hug the man. "I thought for sure the ghost had gotten you!"

"America, I only left the room for fifteen seconds last night, and you think a ghost got me? I don't know why I bother to come watch scary movies with you if you're just going to forget about me," Canada said softly.

"Bro, the movie was so scary, I didn't even know what was going on." America looked Canada to me awkwardly standing to the side. "Oh, intro! Lithuania, this is my brother Canada. Canada, this is Lithuania. He cleans. And he's like Russia's pet or something," America said.

"I'm not Russia's pet. I am my own country," I said quiet, mostly just to reassure myself. "I don't think I've ever heard of Canada before," I said a bit louder, making polite conversation with my new acquaintance. "Is your country really small? Or new, perhaps?" He didn't really look that young, but age can be misleading when it came to countries. China looked young, but he was really thousands of years old. Still, it seems like I should remember someone like him.

Canada inhaled and puffed out his cheeks a tiny bit as if he held something back. He looked rather frustrated, and it was actually kind of cute. Cute? Was that the right word? Canada and I were both guys. Why did I think he was cute?

"No, I'm not a new country. America and I are actually twins, so I've been alive for a while now. And I'm not exactly small either. I'm the second biggest country. Right after Russia," he said carefully.

America and I both shivered at the word Russia. America a bit more dramatically than me.

"Bro, don't compare yourself to that commie. You're not near as creepy as he is. Instead, you should try to be like me! A hero!" America said. He waved the proton gun in the air.

"Uh, thanks, but I'd rather no..." Canada started.

"Lithuania, do you want to wash that shirt? That sticky syrup has to be uncomfortable," America interrupted.

"Um, I don't really have anything else to wear," I said.

"Who cares? We're all dudes here," America said.

"Yeah...but...I..." I didn't know how to explain it without looking really weak. Who was I kidding, I was weak. I was pathetic. But was it so bad that I didn't want the constant reminder?

"Or I can just lend you one of my shirts," America suggested.

I nodded in relief. "Yes. That sounds much better."

"I thought the point was for him to change into a clean shirt. You only do laundry once a month, and it's near the end of the month," Canada pointed out. I could only imagine what that would smell like based on the messes I had to clean up.

Without warning, Canada gripped the bottom of his red hoodie and yanked it over his head. You would have never guessed his body would be so ripped. Not from his baggy hoodie. Each inch revealed as he peeled off his clothing was like finding something too ideal for anyone to ever see.

"Whoa, Canada! Put that away!" What? Why was America trying to stop this? Was I not supposed to want to watch it continue? To reach out and touch him? God, what was wrong with me? "You've got a bad case of the no-shirts, bro. You're going to lower the self-esteem of the entire hemisphere."

I sighed in relief. So I wasn't the only one who thought he looked good. Canada's head appeared out of the hoodie. It was beet red as he used one hand to pull down the white undershirt that had gathered just under his armpits.

"St-stop exaggerating, America. I could never do that. You're embarrassing me," Canada stammered. He flipped his hoodie right side up and handed it too me. "Sorry about your shirt. Do you want to wear this? It should be cleaner than anything America has."

"Thank you," I said as I took his hoodie from him. It smelled nice. Like pine tress and maple syrup and rain.

"So, if there are pancakes on the floor...does that mean there's more pancakes to eat?" America asked. He sounded really serious. Like his life depended on whether there were pancakes in the world or not.

"Sorry, but those were all of them," Canada said. America's face fell. "But I can make some more. Go to sleep. I'll wake you up when I'm finished."

"Ah, Canada, you're the greatest!" America wrapped one arm around his brother. "Seriously. The best brother a hero could ask for!"

"Just get some sleep already, America," Canada said as he pushed America towards his bedroom.

I took their momentary absence to change. I turned around and closed my eyes. I tried not to think if what I would see if I had my eyes open as I unbuttoned my shirt. I fumbled around clumsily, trying to spend as little time bare as possible. I found the fabric of Canada's hoodie. It was so soft and warm. I got my arms through the sleeves and slipped the rest over my head.

I got caught. My head couldn't find the exit. My hands flailed on top, trying to find the escape before Canada came back.

I felt a tug on the back. My head popped through the hole and landed in the hood. I wish I could just disappear back into the hoodie. He had seen me. He had seen my scars.

"It can be a bit tricky sometimes. The hoodie that is," Canada said.

There's no way he hadn't noticed. Everyone notices. I was just so grateful he was too polite to say anything. I pushed back the hood and flipped the rest of my hair from the collar. I pulled down the front of the hoodie, trying to find something to do with my hands.

"Thank you. For that," I said. I smiled nervously.

He smiled gently back. "It was nothing."


	3. Just a Taste

"You, uh...must really like cleaning."

Hmm? I had gotten distracted while scrubbing America's floors. Despite even the smell of the ammonia, I could smell Canada from his hoodie. I had been trying to figure out what he smelled like. I think I had settled on pine trees, rain, wood, and maple syrup.

I hadn't noticed I had already gotten all of the maple syrup from the floor. I had been useless cleaning the same spot for probably a good ten minutes.

"Ah, well, it's sort if a nervous habit," I explained. I draped my cleaning cloth over the edge of the bucket. I picked up the bucket full of dirty water by the handle and carried it over to the sink.

Why did I have to say that? I wasn't nervous now, was I? I really had no reason to be. I glanced over my shoulder to look at Canada's back. His undershirt was thin as it stretched across his shoulders. The fabric strained as he was stirring the pancake batter.

His head turned halfway as he looked back at me. I quickly looked back at the sink and the swirling water.

"Ah, I meant to ask...what kind of pancakes do you want?"

"Round ones." Why on Earth did I say that. That was a stupid, stupid answer.

Instead of being mocked, I heard Canada's soft, gentle laughter. It didn't sound at all biting or harsh. It was actually surprisingly nice.

"That's not exactly what I meant. I should have asked what you want in your pancakes. But I'll be sure to do my best to make them as circular as possible." He chuckled a bit at the end.

"Oh, you don't have to make any special for me. I'm really not sure what goes in pancakes anyway. We don't really have them where I'm from."

"Then you really have to try some. There's not going to be any left once America is done. There's all sorts of stuff you can put in pancakes." Canada poured a bit of the batter onto a hot griddle. The thick pale liquid hissed from the heat. "There's blueberry, chocolate chip, apple, banana, peanut butter, potato, bacon..."

"Bacon?" That ingredient seemed a bit different than the others.

"Yeah, America has the weird obsession with bacon. He thinks that it makes everything taste better. It's actually not too bad if you ignore all the fat clogging your arteries. Though he says I don't use the right bacon most of the time..." Canada slid the spatula under the pancake and flipped it over, revealing a nice golden color. "Anything sound good to you?"

"Uh, the chocolate chip sounds nice. If it isn't too much trouble..." Chocolate was a rarity in Russia's house. It'd be nice to have a treat like that before I had to go.

Canada smiled. "Good choice."

He took the pancake off and set it on a plate. He poured more batter onto the griddle. This time he sprinkled in a handful of chocolate chips. I watched intently over Canada's shoulder as the chips began to melt into the pancake fluffing up around them. He flipped it over, revealing another side of perfect gold with flecks of dark brown chocolate. It smelled mouthwatering. My eyes followed it as he put the pancake on another plate.

"Do you want to try?" Canada asked. "It's pretty easy."

"I don't know..."

"Come on! It'll be fun!" He stood to the side so he was halfway facing me and waved me over.

It was like he had a strange power over me. Before I knew it, I was over by the counter, hands shaking as I grabbed the bowl full of batter.

"Careful, it can be a bit heavy." I didn't expect his voice to be right at my ear. The bowl slipped in my hands, causing a bit more batter to fall out than I intended. I regained my grip and set the bowl out to the side.

I took a deep breath. I couldn't mess this up, not with him right there. I just needed to ignore the fact that his soft, close voice turned my limbs to jelly. Was this when he usually flipped it? I wedged the spatula under the pancake.

"Ah, I don't think it's quite ready..."

It was too late. My hand spazzed and the pancake tore, folding over on top of itself. The underside of the pancake was barely any darker than the batter.

I wiped my wrist across my forehead. "I'm no good at this..."

"It's not so bad." Canada took my hand gripped on the spatula and guided it back under the pancake. He managed to unfold it and get it cooking on the other side, crack face up.  
He let go of my hand, and I set it back down on the countertop. I let go of the spatula and gripped the edge. I think I was going to be sick from embarrassment.

"Hey." I looked up to Canada. He was leaning on the counter at my side. His finger reached out and swiped the tip of my nose. It was cool and wet from pancake residue. "Don't sweat it. Nobody makes a perfect one on their first try. England still can't seem to get it right."

I could feel myself smiling a bit. Why did he have to be so sweet? My fingers still had a bit of batter from the bowl. I drew two streaks on his cheeks right under his eyes. They closed at my touch. When he opened them, he gave me a beautiful shy smile that sent my heart racing. What was happening to me?

He started to lean closer. Suddenly, he turned his head quickly towards the griddle.  
"Oh!" He reached around me to grab the spatula and scrape the pancake off. Little charred bits were left behind.

"I'm so, so sorry!" I could feel my face going red.

"It's really okay, Lithuania," Canada said as he scraped the bits to the side. "It's not that burnt. You just need a bit more practice, that's all."

"I think I should just let you handle the rest." I twisted my fingers into my hair. I can't believe I messed up again.

"You got a little something..."

Right. Of course. This was just great. I still had batter on my fingers. And I had just got that all in my hair. I quickly got my hand away before I could cause any more damage.

I froze as Canada's hand was at my face. My cheek became hyper-aware to his touch. His thumb swiped up. He frowned and continued to rub at my face some more.

I couldn't help but laugh at Canada's expression. "You just made it worse, didn't you."

He smile sheepishly. "Maybe. Sorry"

His hand lingered for what seemed like an eternity. And it felt like it should. Canada's eyes shifted around. He looked down and broke contact.

I must have been weird. I looked down as well. "I think I'll go... clean up a bit."

"O-okay." He went back to pouring more pancakes as I ran off to the shower. Maybe the water would calm me down.

* * *

America stared intently at his ridiculously large stack of pancakes. He lifted the bottle higher and slowly slid back the opening. The thick caramel liquid crawled down and over all the pancakes. He really did have a colorful plate. There were all sorts of fruits and pancakes piled on top of each other. Once he was satisfied, he placed the syrup back on the table.

"Have I mentioned that you're the best brother in all of existence?" America asked. He picked up his fork and stuffed a whole pancake in his mouth.

"It may have been mentioned a few times," Canada said. "I sure wish mine would stop acting like such a pig."

I held back my laughter, but it came out as a weak cough. Canada gave a little smile. "Would you like some syrup, Lithuania?"

"You can use it first." It was closer to him anyway.

America took a break and scooted the bottle towards me. "You better get it now. If Canada gets it, there won't be anymore left," he said with half of his food still in his mouth.

"America!" Canada's face went a light shade of pink.

"What? It's true!"

I took the bottle and poured a bit over my chocolate chip pancakes, just enough that a little was pooled on the side of my plate. Canada sat across the table from me, so I reached to hand the syrup to him. His fingers barely grazed mine as he took the bottle. My breath took a slight hitch. I thought I had gotten over this. It wasn't like he was touching my face like before.

Turns out that America really wasn't exaggerating. Canada poured the rest of the bottles contents over his pancakes. Canada caught me staring at him and went a little red. God, I was making him feel awkward again.

I forced my attention on the pancakes. They looked really good. I picked up my fork and cut a piece off.

It tasted like heaven. Warm and unbelievable sweet. I tasted the chocolate delicacy. If I died right now, I think I would be happy. I looked up to find Canada looking at me.

"Did you like it?" he asked. His lips curled up in a half smile.

"This is quite possibly the best thing I've ever had," I said.

"Yeah, Canada makes the best pancakes. But wait until you've had one of my burgers! With the bacon and the American cheese and..."

I really didn't hear much of what America was saying. Most of his words were muffled by half-chewed pancakes. I ate slowly, trying to savor this as long as possible. But then they were gone. All of the pancakes in America's house were eaten up. My eyes started to sting. I had gotten just a taste of such happiness, and now I had no reason to stay.

"Lithuania, are you alright?" I heard Canada scoot back from the table. There was concern in his voice.

I wiped at the tears on my face. "It's nothing, really. I just..." I forced a little smile on my face. It wavered and shook. "I've got to go. Russia will be wondering where I am." I got up and gathered my cleaning supplies. I got to America's front door before I turned around.

"I guess I'll see you around."

"Yeah, see you, Lithuania," America waved, food coma already setting in. He didn't even bother to lookup. Canada still had the same look of concern, but didn't say anything.

"Thanks for the pancakes, Canada. They were really good," I managed to say without my voice catching.

I went through the door quickly and headed back to Russia's house. As an afterthought, I wondered what happened. Not a single pancake had been left over. Whatever happened to the scarred and burned pancake I made? I shook off the variant thought from my mind. It was best to shake off all feelings now. It would make it less painful.


	4. Special

"...and you'll need to be sure to ask America these questions. He has a tendency of just rushing off into things without providing much more information. We don't want another incident like last time."

I handed Russia the pages I had just gone over. I pointed my finger to a highlighted portion on the front page. "This is your opening statement about the state of the economy and the welfare of your people."

"This is hard to remember," Russia said flipping throughout the papers. He smiled up at me in his creepy sickly sweet way. "Why don't you just do the meeting for me?"

I started to shake. "Sorry, Mr. Russia. I'm not allowed in there. I'm not actually part of the G8."

Russia didn't say anything or move. He just kept on staring at me. I was shaking so bad. My muscles were so sore, and his gaze just made everything heavier.

America stuck his head out of the meeting room. "Dude, Russia, commie buddy. You're holding up the party. Get in here already."

I was relieved when Russia turned America's way. "Da! I will come. We are buddies, da? We're great friends. You want to become one with me, da?"

America shook his head exasperatedly. "Stop joking around, man. Let's just get this boring meeting over with."

Russia seeped into the meeting room. It seemed like he took in his dark heavy cloud in with him. I was sorry for the other members of the G8, but I was glad I was finally rid of him.

I leaned on the wall and fell to the ground. My whole body felt like it hurt. There were bruises and soreness everywhere invisible. I don't think I could live with this much longer, but what choice did I have?

"Um, are you okay?"

I looked up to see him. I didn't do very well at hiding my shock, surprise, and confusion.  
"Ah, you probably don't remember me. My name is..."

"Canada..." I breathed. And didn't think I'd ever see him again.

He smiled gently down at me. "You actually remember me!" He slid down the wall to sit beside me.

" Of course I do. What are you doing here?" I asked.

"I'm here to keep you company," he said.

I shook my head. "That's not true." He couldn't have. Not after the way I made a complete fool of myself last time I saw him. "I'm sure you probably have something more important to do." He was in a uniform and everything. I must be keeping him late from some sort of meeting.

"Nobody will notice I'm gone." Canada was smiling at me, but there was a sadness in his voice. His eyes were just a confirmation of the fact. "I usually don't get to say much, anyway. I'd much rather spend time with you."

"Still, I don't see how anyone could not notice you." I don't know why I said that. My exhaustion must have been really out of control. My head and eyelids felt really heavy. They both started to droop. My head landed on something warm and furry. It wasn't soft, per se, but my head settled farther into its comfort.

"You must be pretty tired, huh," Canada said with a bit of a laugh and something else I couldn't quite put my finger on. It sounded nervous and awkward, but a sort of hopeful at the same time. I still couldn't quite grasp it.

I felt Canada's fingers on my palm. I hadn't realized that my hand had found his. His fingers curved around the outside of my hand and pulled me in. His hands were large and calloused, but still gentle and warm.

"Tired is a bit of an understatement," I said as I yawned. "I'm pretty much working as a slave," I complained. I felt like I could tell him anything in this state.

"What would you do if you were free?" Canada asked.

"I don't know," I said sleepily. "Run. Be happy. Go to see you."

"Me? Why me?" he said with a laugh but also intense curiosity.

"I still need to give you back your hoodie from last time."

"Right," Canada said, finally understanding. "You never forget anything, do you?"

"Not usually. I suppose that's why Russia keeps me around." I yawned again. "Though, I would probably go see you anyway."

"I'm really nothing special," Canada said. A soft pressure pressed the top of my head. "Hardly anybody notices me."

"You only need one person to notice you to be special," I said. "You're special enough to me. If I was free, I'd go see you in a heartbeat."

I could feel my head getting heavier. I was being drawn into sleep. As I started to rest, I dreamed as I drifted that Canada in his low soft voice whispered, "I think you're pretty special, too."

* * *

I must have fallen asleep because I was jolted awake when the doors to the meeting halls were opened. My head whipped up. I turned. I had been sleeping in Canada's shoulder. Why was I so stupid? I was just making things more awkward.

Mr. Russia was one of the first to exit the room. He looked all around until he found me leaning in the wall. His eyes narrowed when he saw.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Russia. I hadn't expected the meeting to end so soon," I said still a bit flustered.

"Who is this?" he asked as I struggled to get back up.

I was back on my feet with the helpful tug of Canada, his hand still in mine. I let go quickly, embarrassed.

"I'm sorry! I'm so so sorry!" I said to any and all who would listen. I looked from Russia to Canada. Both looked confused of what was going on. At times like these, I really wished I could fully disappear.

"I'm Canada," Canada sighed, as if he had said the phrase a million times.

Russia smiled a bit. "Oh! Lucky me. I found him! You're missing member of G8!"

I could feel my knees shaking. Canada was rich, too? He was so far out of my league, it wasn't even funny. I thought China had been the last member. At let, that's what Russia always said.

"But why were you out here with my little Lithuania?" Russia said with a questioning look on his face.

My apologies came out as whispers. This was a mistake I should have never left myself so open like that. It would just make everything hurt worse.

"Lithuania and I were just talking. I let him borrow my hoodie. It's my favorite, so I really want it."

"Oh." Russia looked at me. "I didn't know Lithuania took your hoodie. I'll bring it back next meeting."

"Actually, Russia, I think I'd rather get it myself." Russia looked surprised at Canada. "You see, it's really special to me. I'd rather not be separated from it any longer. I really love that hoodie." Canada looked down at the ground.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't realize it meant so much to you."

Canada looked up at me, a slight blush on his face for some reason. "Well...it kind of does."

I felt kind of guilty. I had selfishly kept the hoodie that Canada cared so much for. I was glad I had it. It was a nice reminder of that day with him, despite how much I had embarrassed myself. I wondered why he had let me keep it for so long.

"If you don't mind, I think I'll come over to get it later," Canada continued to Russia.  
What? "No!" I said out loud. I couldn't let Canada do that. Once you went to Mr. Russia's house, you would never get out in one piece or with your sanity.

Russia and Canada looked at me in astonishment. "I mean, this is a very busy time for us. Especially after the meeting today. We wouldn't want to trouble Mr. Russia. His sisters are coming over later, so things are going to be hectic enough as it is."

Russia's face went grave. "Da. You can become one with me later, Canada."  
"But I never said..."

"Bro! Why are you always so late?" America said. It looked like he was returning back to the meeting room. "You never come on time! We can't start the meeting without you. And don't you dare blame kuma-what's-his-name again. We just spent a half hour counting, trying to figure out who was gone. I kept telling them had eight for a reason. Seriously, what's a G8 with only seven people?"

"I'll be right there, America," Canada said. He took one last glance at me as he, Russia, and America went back to the meeting room. I gave a small little smile to him as he left. I knew he wouldn't understand, but he really should stay away. I didn't want him to get hurt because of me.

Before he went through the door, it looked like he mouthed something to me. It almost looked like,"I'll save you."


	5. Transparent

At the moment, I wasn't that concerned for myself. I was more worried for Latvia. Despite the many years he's lived here, Latvia still couldn't manage to get things right. It was very hard to sneak out of Russia's house, much less sneak in. Russia had a strict no visitor policy. Anybody who came was expected to stay forever, except for one major exception. The one exception Latvia let into the house.

"Lithuania, I am so so sorry!" Latvia's words were shaking as he rushed to catch up with me.

"Just tell me where Estonia took her, and we'll get rid of her," I said.

"I think they're over by his office." Latvia pointed the way to the left of the hallway. We could hear them before long, so I picked up the pace.

"Please don't kill me!" I could hear Estonia beg. It wasn't very manly, but all forms of masculinity were abandoned when it came to Belarus.

"Where is he?!" Belarus growled out.

We quickly went through the door to find Belarus cornering Estonia against a bookshelf. They both turned to look at us. They both looked happy to see me and not in the good way.

Estonia looked relieved as Belarus finally backed off. He became pretty much a useless pile of goo. I'd have to stall until he was able to be helpful again.

"Ah, Lithuania, you're here." Belarus adjusted the grip on her knife as she came towards me.

"I'm tired of dealing with complete idiots." She have me a smile. "You're not an idiot. You'll tell me where my brother is. You wouldn't dare stand between me and my wedding day."

She was right, I wasn't an idiot. If I let her get Russia, I'd get pain twofold for the rest of my existence. "Belarus, I don't think..."

"Don't you lie to me, Lithuania." The thing about Belarus was that she was sporadic, chaotic. She gave pretty much no warning sign. The tip of her knife dug into the side of my stomach. I cried out in pain. She flexed the knife up and down, releasing some of the blood to stain my uniform and cutting deeper with each movement. "I know you know what I am prepared to do to be reunited with my big brother. We are meant to be together, and no one has the power to stop us."

"And I wasn't trying to." My voice was strained. "I just wanted to tell you that I don't think Russia is here now."

"What?" There was a bit more pressure on the knife. I held my breath through the new wave of pain.

"According to Mr. Russia's schedule, he should be discussing political issues with China and ways that their governments might be able to work together in the future," I breathed out.

Her knife flicked away, and I immediately pressed my hands to my wound. The most important thing was to keep applying pressure. "That wrinkly old whore!" She scrutinized me. "But Latvia said Big Brother was home."

"Most of the time, Latvia doesn't know what's going on. Mr. Russia doesn't like to tell him his schedule."

Latvia looked at the ground. What I said was a bit harsh. Latvia did know Mr. Russia's schedule. He just couldn't apply it to the right situations. His feelings weren't exactly the most important thing at this time. We needed to get Belarus out of here.

"What about Estonia? He said Russia was here as well. Are you saying he was lying?" Belarus was looking more and more skeptical by the minute. This could get really bad. Someone could die, and that someone would most likely be me.

"Es-Estonia just got back from a trip. This plan was last minute from the meeting so..."

"That's right!" Estonia recomposed himself to back me up, quite possibly saving my life. "I missed the meeting this morning, so I wasn't quite sure what was going on. I only said we'd have to look for him."

Belarus yelled out in frustration. She cleaned my blood from her knife unto her apron.

"I'm going to kill him!" With that, she rushed out of the room. None of us relaxed until we heard her slam the front door shut.

"Lithuania, are you okay!" Latvia exclaimed. He was staring at the growing spot of blood on my shirt. He wriggled his hands, not quite sure what to do.

"Don't worry about it. She didn't cut me very deep. I've had worse. Where is Russia?" I tried to reassure him.

"In that room," Latvia said. He shivered at the thought.

This was what I had feared. He was in the secret room hidden away for times like this. Everything always got worse when Russia drank his vodka, which was pretty much all the time, but he pretty much chugged it when he was scared. It was rare the times he was scared, but not rare enough.

"I'll go inform Russia. Makes sure no one else comes in," I said.

"Are you sure? I could..."

"Come along, Latvia." Estonia pushed Latvia out the door. "You don't want to stick around for this."

I pressed a hidden button under Russia's desk. The opening of the heavy door was nearly soundless. I ducked under the desk and through the small revealed opening.

There was a cracking sound as I landed. I braced my hand on one of the shelves to prevent myself from falling on the broken glass. There was darkness, cold, and only the sound of my breathing. The adrenaline was really pumping through my veins now.

There was a crash not to far from my ear. I held my arms up to protect my head and neck. I felt a bit of sting on my neck from tiny shards of glass.

"Russia, it's me!" I pleaded.

His hand was at my throat. His large fingers clutched and crushed my airways. What light that came from the door above glinted off of the broken vodka bottle and his wild purple eyes.

"She's...gone..." I choked out.

"Did you kill her?" he asked in a calm low voice.

"No..." I gasped out.

"Pity."

He let go, and I fell on to my knee. The glass cut into where I caught myself. My knee and hand felt warm as my blood made them sick. My breath came in small gasps.

"We made her think you went to China. She shouldn't come back for a while. By then, we'll be better prepared to keep her out." I tried to get back up. I couldn't stay down.

Russia clutched the hair in the back near my neck to pull me up. He stared into my eyes, so it was impossible to look away despite my shaking.

"You better be. It's a good thing I have you, Lithuania. You always look out for me." He let go of me and patted my shoulder. He smiled his small creepy smile. "I don't think I'll ever let you go."

If only he realized how horrible that sounded. But I didn't have the courage to tell him I wanted to be anywhere but here. I held my tongue as he climbed up the ladder on the wall to get back to work. Or to torture someone else.

He didn't stay at his desk, so I climbed back up after I collected myself a bit more. Everything hurt. Estonia and Latvia were nowhere in sight. That's okay. I could take care of myself like I always did. I was breathing heavily as I got out into the hallway. The closet with the first aid kit wasn't too far away. I'd just sew myself back together like I always did.

I found the right closet and rested my hand on the doorknob. I sighed and turned it slowly to the right. I opened it just a tiny bit and a hand reached out for mine. I let out a small yelp as it pulled me in.

* * *

The closet was dark after the door closed. I heard the click as the other person pulled the little chain in order to turn the light bulb on. The soft light revealed a nervously smiling Canada in front of me.

"H-hey!" he said quietly.

"Canada!" I whispered in exclamation. "What are you doing here? How did you even get in?" I grabbed back his hand and felt for the knob to get out. "We need to get you out of here." His hand felt nice and warm and gentle, even as he pulled me back closer to him.

"Wait! I really needed to tell you something." The sudden shift made me wince. Canada's eyes finally adjusted to the light, and he finally got a good look at me. His eyes went wide with concern. "Holy maple, you're hurt!"

"Yeah, but I can wait. You need to be out if here before Russia finds you," I insisted.

"Where's the first aid kit?" Canada asked.

"On the shelf to the left above you, but Canada..."

He ignored my warning and got the big case down from the top shelf. It made a bit of noise as it clunked to the flour. He pretty much tore off the latches to get it open.

"I can't leave now. Not with you like that. Please sit down."

I searched the room for a place to sit. I sighed. I found a collapsible stool leaning against one of the shelves. I unfolded it and sat down.

Canada approach with all different sorts of bandages. I was surprised when he came down to eye level. He seemed a bit surprised to. Hs cheeks went pink and he averted his eyes from looking directly into mine.

"You've got some...little cuts...on your face."

I nodded. He looked just to the right of my eyes as he cleaned them and stuck a few bandages on. It stung at first, but his soft fingers soon made me forget the pain.

He worked in silence. After he was done with my face, he went to my knee. He cut away uniform trousers so he could get to my knee more easily. He used a set of tweezers to pull out the little shards of glass. He cleaned it a bit and wrapped a bandage around my knee.

"Is there anywhere else with glass?" he asked calmly.

"Yeah...my hand." I stuck my palm out to him.

The silence got a bit more awkward then. His fingertips gently pulled at my palm. My fingers twitched with every piece of glass he pulled out.

"Am I hurting you?" he asked.

"No," I replied. "I'm fine. It feels nice."

It feels nice? Get it together, Liet! Of course it couldn't feel nice! He's going to think I'm some sort of masochist or something. He started to wrap the bandage around my hand. I sort of missed his fingers.

"So, uh, Canada, what did you have to tell me?" I said trying to distract him.

"Lithuania, I need you to take off your shirt."

I could feel myself panicking again. Canada was only trying to help me. He had already seen the worst.

I sighed again and started to undo the buttons. I closed my eyes and left my shirt open. I tried not to look at him or anything. I just wanted to forget.

But I couldn't. I could feel his fingers over my ridges of scars. It sent shivers down my spine.

"I'm sorry if my fingers are cold," Canada said.

"No. They're not."

My stomach flinched as he sutured my knife wound closed.

"Did Russia do this to you?" Canada asked slowly and softly.

"No." I said simply.

"None of it?"

I couldn't answer that one. He could see them. All the scars collected over the years. Most of them not as clean as Belarus' simple knife. I wasn't as skilled as Canada. I couldn't patch myself together so nicely. In fact, I was falling apart at the seams.

I heard the sound of heavy footsteps from the hallway. I flinched to alert and stared back at the doorway.

"Don't worry. We'll be safe in here," Canada said. He took my un-bandaged hand.

"You really should get out of here," I smiled weakly. "What did you have to tell me?"

"Right. I should just say it, shouldn't I?" He fidgeted with my hand a bit before he let go. "I should have just told you when I first noticed. It would have made things a whole lot less awkward. I guess I was just scared I would offend you."

My breath caught. "Have I really been that transparent?"

"Eh?"

"I am so sorry, Canada." I got up from my stool quickly and headed for the door. "I'm so so sorry. I'll just get your hoodie, and you'll never have to see me again."

"Lithuania, I..."

"I couldn't help myself, really. You were just so nice. Nicer and more caring than anyone I've ever met before. And...and I just couldn't help but fall in love with you. And I know it's weird and strange. I can't quite fathom how it happened either. I just..." It all came out in a rush.

"Lithuania!" Canada said loudly. It was so strange to hear him like that. I'd never heard anything louder than a soft gentle voice from him. It was still gentle, but definitely not soft, though it drove me to silence.

"I came to tell you...that I love you," Canada said in his normal sweet soft voice.

I was trying to sort it all out in my head. "So...we...we like each other?" I was still so confused.

Canada nodded happily. "Yeah, I guess!" he laughed out.

But if we liked each other, that means I could...

I just had to try. I brought my bandaged hand to his face. Canada smiled happily and rested his hand over mine.

"Lithuania, can I kiss you?"

I was stunned, but I nodded slightly. My hand moved with his face as he brought his lips to mine. It was slow and soft and incredibly sweet. Everything I could have possibly dreamt it to be. And that's why it hurt so much more when we parted.

"Lithuania, why are you crying?" Canada wiped the tears from under my eyes. "Was I being too rough? I'm sorry..."

"Canada, I can't do this. I can't. I'm just...I'm just so weak. You saw them. You saw all of those scars. I'm weak. I'm pathetic. There's no reason why I should be alive. I can't leave. As much as I really want to. As much as I really want you. I can't leave this place. I'm not strong enough. I'm too weak. I just can't..."

"Lithuania, you are not weak," Canada said. He took my face in his hands to try to stop the shaking. "I have never thought that. And you know what I thought when I first saw you? When I first saw your scars? I thought, wow. This person, this stranger in my brother's house is truly amazing. Those scars show how much you've been through. How strong you are. They're proof that you can live through anything. I thought how lucky I would be to find someone as brave and strong as you."

It didn't take much for me to close the gap between us and kiss him again. I couldn't be as gentle as him. He matched me with the same intensity and enthusiasm. He held me close around my lower back, but was still mindful of my wounds. With one hand, he smoothed away the hair from my face after we parted. "You are the one person I never have to be afraid to be myself. You always saw me for who I was anyway. And now that I have you, I know I can never let you go."


	6. Play Nice

"I don't know if I can do this, Canada," I said. He didn't have to pull me down the hallway. I'd go with him anywhere. That didn't make less scared of what we were approaching.

"We'll be fine as long as we're together," he said. He paused for a moment to squeeze my hand.

I chuckled a bit and held his hand closer in mine. "Do you know how cliché that sounds?"

"Is cliché such a bad thing if it's true?"

I shook my head, and Canada kissed me lightly on the cheek. Twice. Three times.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

"No, but I can't stay here any longer." I turned the doorknob and let myself in.

"Latvia, why are you still so small?" Russia asked.

"I think...I might grow a bit taller...if you would stop squishing me," Latvia said.

Russia was smiling a bit too much as he pushed down on the top of Latvia's head. Did I really have to do this now? He hadn't seen me yet. He was already in a pretty bad mood. I could probably still slip away unnoticed.

Too late. I was held firm. Russia turned to look my way.

"Oh hello Lithuania! What are you doing over here?"

"You see...Canada and I..." I tried to start. The words weren't quite coming out the way I wanted.

"Canada?" Russia interrupted. Confusion crossed his face as his eyes searched. Shock and even more confusion came across as his eyes focused on the man-country personification at my side. "Oh there you are! I wasn't expecting you. How did you even get in?"

"I guess I just sort of slipped in through all the confusion," Canada said sheepishly. He almost seemed as nervous as I was. We shared an understanding look, and I squeezed his fingers once more.

"Oh. You must have come to become one with me, da?" His smile got even bigger.

"Actually, no. That wasn't what I came here for." Canada shook his head.

Russia unsmiled. He couldn't see why we had bothered him.

I just had to go out and say it. He would just get more irritated the more it was left unsaid. "Mr. Russia, Canada's here to help me move out. I'm not going to live here anymore."

Unfortunately, the smile returned to his face. "That's funny joke, Lithuania, but really silly. Why would you want to move out? You love it here with me, da? No. You'll live here with me forever and ever and ever and ever..."

My chronic trembling returned. It was useless. I was never going to be able to leave this place. I tried, and I failed. Canada held tight to my hand. I was surprised to find a tiny trace of anger on his face.

"Russia, how about we play a game?" he said slowly and calmly.

"A game?" Russia was surprised by the sudden change in topic. "What kind of game?"

"A game involving snow. It's called a snowball fight."

"Alright. I'll play, but I'm afraid you're going to lose. I know everything there is to know about snow. And fighting," Russia said. A wicked little smile wormed across his face.

"Then, you won't mind if we make it a bit more interesting." I was surprised to find that Canada had sly little smile of his own. "If I win, you have to let Lithuania leave with me. If you win, I'll let China have my place in the G8."

"If I win, you'll become one with me," Russia insisted.

What? No! I couldn't let that happen to Canada. Before I could say anything, Canada nodded in agreement.

"Really, Lithuania, you have nothing to worry about."

"Are you going to be able to see alright without your glasses?" I fiddled with them nervously between my fingers.

* * *

"I'll be fine. I can actually see better far away without them." He fixed the goggles he usually kept on top of his head over his eyes. "Wish me luck!" he said with a smile. He turned to go out to the giant snow covered field.

"Canada wait!" As he turned his face to look at me, I placed my hands on his cheeks and pulled him down for a kiss.

"That was..." I could feel my face growing hot. "For luck."

He smiled sweetly and kissed the top of my forehead. "Merci, mon chou."

He ran off to the field without another word. What in the world did "mon chou" mean?

I couldn't quite see what was going on. Canada was pretty much invisible in the snow. Snowballs seemed to be flying in from all direction. I was too far away from Russia to see his reaction, but it didn't look like it was going well for him. The fort he had built was falling down all around him. He tried to form it back up with one hand. His other hand clutched a snowball tightly without actually crushing it. It was probably packed with ice by now.

A speeding snowball crashed through part of the barricade and hit Russia in the back. It was so forceful, Russia stumbled forward a bit. Russia whipped around and threw his snowball quickly at the direction the other snowball came from. It was no use. The snowball Russia threw disintegrated in flight by a storm of snowballs aimed toward him. The fleet of snowballs crashed through the fort and hit Russia square in the chest. He was knocked down from the impact. It didn't look like he was moving.

That's when I saw Canada's head peek out from over a hill. He crawled over and stood up on top. He snuck over to Russia's fort and watched carefully. Russia didn't seem to notice anything.

Canada raised his arms up in the air in victory. He turned and ran towards me. I got on my feet and ran to meet him. I was so happy I thought my feet were flying. I hugged him, and he lifted me off the ground.

"You're free!" he called out happily.

I laughed a bit out of pure joy. As he started to put me down again, I held on to his shoulders and gave him a long sweet kiss. His face had traces of snow on it. Our body heat melted it away.

"How? I've never seen Russia act like that. What did you do to him, Canada?" I pushed his goggles up on his head and slipped his glasses back on.

"I just thought he ought to have a taste of his own medicine. He'll just have a bit if internal bleeding. Nothing in comparison to what he did to you."

"That's fine. You've done enough." More than I ever thought possible. "Thank you Canada."

He kissed me again. I don't know if I could ever get used to this. "I've actually been banned from picking snowball fights. Luckily, most countries forget I'm even banned," Canada explained.

"Was this not fair then?" I asked

"Russia wasn't exactly being fair either. He put up a good fight. A lot longer than most. Though you know, I'd break all the rules for you, baby."

I laughed at that. Canada's cocky confidence was so out of character. He winked at me and paused my laughter with another kiss.

"That reminds me," I said after we parted. "What does 'chou' mean?"

"Cabbage. Why?"

"You called me a cabbage?" The phrase seemed so strange.

Canada's face went bright red. "N-n-n-no...yes. It's a term of endearment, okay? I didn't mean anything weird. Blame France. You wouldn't believe what half of his terms mean."

I kissed his cheek. "It's sweet." He kissed my lips in return.

I remembered something then. "I've got to go grab something really quick. Wait for me, mielasis?"

Canada chuckled a bit. "And what does that mean?"

I smiled a bit, still a little embarrassed to use pet names. "Sweetheart."

* * *

Canada was waiting for me outside after I left my room. I didn't have many possessions, but I had to go back for this. I held his hoodie tightly in my arms. It didn't quite smell like him anymore, but I was happy that this would all change.

Canada's eyes lit up when he saw me. "My favorite!" he exclaimed.

It made me happy to see him all the happier. "Yep! You can finally have your hoodie back!"

"That wasn't to what I was referring to." He scooped me up in his arms and kissed me enthusiastically, the bravado from his win still hadn't worn off. "Can I keep you, too, mon cher amoureux?"

I laughed. It was funny how I could be this happy. How times could change. "What did you call me this time?" I asked.

"My precious sweetheart," he replied with a serene smile.

"Okay then. You can keep me. But only if you play nice."

He held me close and kissed me. The warmth filled every part of my being despite the cold chill.

"The nicest."

**AN: Well, it's finally over. I know, sad right? What are you going to do with your lives now? I'll tell you what. There's this lovely little poll on my profile page for you to answer if you want to see me write even more stories. I hope you vote! There's lots of interesting choices this time.**


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